Gen
by ElvenBookwyrm
Summary: A mysterious girl named Gen appears with tales of a sinister future. Question/Huntress strongly implied
1. Chapter 1

_Gotham City, June 17__th__, 2027_

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" asked Vandal Savage. "You do remember that you won't be able to come back, after all."

"Of course I remember. And of course I'm ready, just like the past fourteen times you asked me that question."

"Are you sure you can't let me tempt you with a haircut before you go?" said Commissioner Barbara Gordon. "It's not like I don't have experience in the matter. Just a trim?"

"It's no worse than my dad's haircuts. Do I have to turn the machine on myself or are we going to get down and do this?"

"Alright," said Commissioner Gordon with a chuckle. "You're all set, then?"

"Of course. Bye Dr. Savage, Auntie Babs, Uncle Nate."

Captain Atom, who had heretofore been standing silently in the corner, said, "Have fun. See if you can't convince your mother to forgive me this time."

"I'll try."

"And don't forget not to trust me," said Savage.

"Alright. Let's go."

_Gotham City, June 10__th__, 2007_

A young, dark-haired woman in a dark grey trenchcoat and black leather boots tumbled out of a vortex and ran straight into the back wall of a blind alley. The homeless man sitting in the alley didn't even flinch – in Metropolis, something like this happened at least once a month. The young punk who walked by didn't ignore the young woman, though, for two reasons: he was new to Metropolis, and he hadn't seen the vortex. "Hey babe," he said, sauntering up to her and putting his hand on her hip. "You look lost. Mind if I… show you around?"

She brought her fist up and punched him in the nose, then whirled around and landed another punch in the solar-plexus. He was too winded to say anything, but he looked sufficiently horrified when he saw her face – or rather, the lack thereof. _She had no face!_ "Who…" he eventually gasped.

"Gen," she said. "As in next. You going to stare at my chest all day or tell me where I am?" He did neither – he ran away. "Great," she muttered. "My people-skills _still_ suck."

"Are you a good witch or a bad witch, Gen as in Next?"

Gen looked to her left. Oh! There was an old man sitting on the ground. "I'm not a witch," she told him. "I don't have any powers at all."

"But are you good or bad?" said the old man.

"Depends on who's doing the asking. I fight against oppression, if it helps."

"And where did you come from? Or when?"

"I'm pretty sure I came from the future, unless something went wrong. When is it?"

The old man rummaged through the pile of newspapers beside him and pulled out the least yellowed one. "This one's from yesterday," he said. "I haven't found one for today yet."

She sighed. "I overshot. I was supposed to arrive next week, and in Gotham." She shivered, peering out into the main street. "I hate Metropolis. There aren't enough shadows."

The old man chuckled and started gathering things together. "At least we've got time to get there, then."

"Oh, I wouldn't ask you to come with me," said Gen. "It'll probably be dangerous. And I'm sorry, but you're old, and I'd be worried about you getting hurt."

The old man's chuckles turned into a full-out, booming laugh. "I like you, Gen as in Next. You don't mince words. But there'll be no getting rid of old Bobby Black-and-Blue. 'Sides, I've been in Metropolis long enough already – time to see what Gotham has been up to while I've been away." He grinned at her. "You don't have to travel with me, but as we're going the same way, we may as well save our money and go together."

She tilted her head, contemplating him. "I don't even know you. How come you're trusting me? How come you expect me to trust you?"

"Hey, you don't have to trust me," Bobby said still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "You're the big, superhero, right? It's us little guys that have to trust you."

He pretended not to listen when she muttered, "Perhaps. For now."


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing.

----

Batman ran as fast as he could, which was barely fast enough to escape the series of explosions. "This is your fault," he snarled.

"My fault?" Flash protested through the com-link. "How is it my fault?"

"You were supposed to be watching them, but you decided to go for a sandwich."

"I was only gone for a few seconds."

"It was long enough." An explosion sounded particularly close to his left shoulder, and something hit him in the back. "Can you get me out of here now?"

"Yeah, I see you."

"Do it," he said, and then disappeared in a haze of light, shortly before the building collapsed.

----

"You smell like a bonfire," said Bobby, wrinkling his nose at Gen. "And fish."

"Now, let's not get into who smells like what," she chided, folding her arms.

"I'm serious, though, Gen. You ought to shower before you meet up with them. You want to make a good impression, don't you?"

"They shouldn't trust impressions. Impressions were what led to the war."

"Nonetheless, they do. Not necessarily the Batman, but the rest of them. And from what you tell me, he's out of commission right now. So here's what we're going to do," he said, digging a leather-bound book out of his bag. He pulled out an envelope from between pages fifteen and sixteen. "Here are my life savings. It'll be more than enough for a motel room with a shower and two beds for a night."

"I couldn't take your money, Bobby."

"You're not, remember? You're the big, strong superhero. You're here to protect me, and I'm going to get a motel room with a shower. I can't make you come with me, nor will I try."

She ran her fingers through her hair. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take off a layer of grime."

"And we can get something to eat, too. That is... do you eat?"

"Of course I eat," Gen said. "I'm as human as anybody else."

"Well then, if you don't mind me asking, how?"

"There's trust and then there's trust, Bobby."

-----

"What is that supposed to mean?" said Superman.

The most formidable man in Batman's acquaintance - Alfred - stared down the Man of Steel as though he were simply another recalcitrant child. "That I will be taking care of Master Bruce until such time as I declare him fit to return to his duties, social or otherwise. I have yet to meet a doctor in the League's hire who can be trusted-"

John interjected, "Every person we hire goes through a rigorous-"

"Who can be trusted," continued Alfred, "to withstand Master Bruce's whinging until he is completely well - nor have I met such a member of the League. Master Bruce has been pushing himself far too hard for far too long, and I cannot keep my eye on him sufficiently well if you keep bringing him with you as you go gallivanting around the universe. As I said, ladies, gentlemen," Alfred said with a somewhat helpless shrug. "There is trust, and then there is trust."

"But we need him," Diana said.

"You'll make do. I know that he considers that man with no face, the Question, to be nearly his equal as a detective. In any case I will allow him his computer - he won't be completely cut off." Alfred put on his hat and prepared to leave the conference room. "Oh, by the way, Miss Prince, I would ask that you not send flowers as a Get Well gift this time, as I expect to have young Miss Cain staying with us and they irritate her eyes. And Mr. Kent, after I call you to let you know Master Bruce's condition, you may inform Miss Lane that, being bedridden, he cannot escape her should she still wish for an interview."

Wally wanted to ask, _does everyone in Gotham hold a degree in cruel and unusual punishment?_ What he asked instead was, "How do you know... everything?"

"I am butler to the world's greatest detective, Mr. West. It is in my job description."

----

"You seriously said that?"

"I seriously did. I think my exact words were - 'I'm Bobby Black-and-Blue, it's in my job description.' And then I just..." He mimed a right hook. "Punched his lights out." Gen laughed - a series of staccato 'Ha's, the laughter of someone accustomed to staying hidden. Bobby liked it anyway. He couldn't tell if she was happy or not unless she laughed, which reminded him of the time he'd met the Question. He wondered, but didn't ask, if there was a connection. He asked instead, "And what about you, Gen? Any funny stories you want to tell me from your past and our future?"

Gen's laughter stopped abruptly. "No," she said. "There wasn't much of anything to laugh at, then. We were at war."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It doesn't matter," she said, turning off her night table lamp. "If all goes well, it won't even exist anymore, anyway." She was silent for a few minutes, and Bobby thought she might have fallen asleep, until she said, "Bobby?"

"I'm here, Gen."

"Why have you been so nice to me?"

He smiled softly and thought of Melanie. "You remind me of a girl I once knew." He turned out the light

----

"Gentlemen, we have put this off for far too long."

"Agreed, but I am yet hesitant. Our agent in Metropolis reported a temporal anomaly."

"Come now. Hardly a week goes by without a temporal or spatial anomaly in Metropolis. I am more concerned that our reports are inaccurate about the Batman. We are surely aware of his location?"

"Surely. The witch has confirmed it."

"She still hopes that we will reveal the location of Luthor to her?"

"She is weak."

"We are not. Shall we stand by while this... legion, this army of fantastic creatures masquerading as men shifts the balance of power without our consent?"

"We are agreed, then. These meta-humans and those who ally themselves with them must die."

"So we will it, so it shall be."


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing.

----

It was night-time, and Bruce Wayne was asleep. This was not a usual occurrence, considering Bruce Wayne's secondary (some would say only) occupation, but, having been sedated by his butler, he had no choice but to rest and let his body heal itself. Tonight, this was rather dangerous.

The window slid open noiselessly, admitting a slender person dressed entirely in black. Just as noiselessly, the person slid the window back in place and melted into the shadows in the corner of the room closest to the sleeping billionaire. Nothing happened for a minute. Two minutes. The waiting person breathed in synchronization with the sleeping man. Five minutes. Fifteen minutes. Finally, thirty minutes after the first intruder had entered the room, the window broke, due to a gas grenade being tossed through it. The gas grenade was followed by a pale, grinning man with green hair and a purple suit, who sprayed the words "I Know" on the wall with red paint. The purple-suited man then left the premises.

The slender person walked over to the sleeping man, who had not yet breathed in any of the toxins, and placed a gas mask over his mouth and nose. After that, a box was put on the foot of Bruce Wayne's bed, a box that started emitting the sounds of a man dying of Smilex poisoning. On top of this was placed a note. That done, the person headed for the window, only to disappear in a haze of light.

"Schnauzer," said the person, a girl, upon rematerializing in the Watchtower satellite. "I'd hoped to get a chance to shower first."

----

Bobby Black-and-Blue knew something was wrong before opening his eye. How, he couldn't tell - except that it was a little too quiet. It wasn't really noticeable, though; it was more of a subtle feeling developed through years of living on city streets. "Gen?" he said. There was no response. He rolled over to look at her bed. She wasn't in it. In fact, it looked as though she hadn't been in it all night. That could be good - or it could be bad. He picked up the folded piece of paper she'd left on his nightstand - "In case I'm not there in the morning," she said.

She had outlined why she had come back in time when they had been traveling to Gotham. She hadn't given him very much detail, and here there was little more, but the detail she gave him was horrifying. There was a car key included with the note. She'd signed with her name - her full name - Genevieve.

"Another war," Bobby said. Was the world really headed for another war - fought here, in the streets of Gotham and Metropolis? He looked out his window at the only car in the lot. It was blue and beat up, but it looked fast. Not if I can help it, he thought, and left to stop a war.

----

Gen shaded her eyes from the light in the interrogation room. "Is that really necessary?" she asked. "It's not like I even committed a crime."

"Breaking and Entering isn't a crime where you come from?" said Shayera.

"Okay, so you've got me there. But it's hardly unheard of for a mask."

"True," Question murmured.

"Not helpful," Shayera ground out. "Let's get started, okay? What do you call yourself?"

"Gen."

"Just Gen? No back story? No gimmick?" Question asked.

"I don't have a face. That not gimmicky enough for you?"

"What were you doing in Bruce Wayne's room?"

"Saving his life. Somebody posing as the Joker released a Smilex grenade. I merely gave him clean air to breathe. Somewhat of a novelty in Gotham, I suppose, but hardly sinister."

"Somebody _posing_ as the Joker?" Shayera said, startled. "What do you mean, posing as the Joker? When we swept the room for evidence we found trace elements of his DNA."

"If you review your tapes of the incident you will notice that Mr. Wayne's attacker _didn't gloat_. The real Joker would have at least stopped to ensure his victim was awake to suffer." Gen turned her blank face to look at the Question. "Surely you remember at least one enemy with the ability to replicate and overwrite DNA."

Question tensed. Shayera noticed. "Are you implying that Cadmus had something to do with this?"

"Only in that they invented the technology," Gen said, still not breaking her eyeless gaze at the Question. "The cadre in charge of this incident is much worse."

Shayera looked at the Question. He tapped his fingers on the table and then looked up at Gen. "I don't believe you," he said.

Gen recoiled as if struck. "What?" she said.

"I don't believe you. You're either lying or leaving something very important out. I see no reason to trust your information, your intentions or your implications."

Shayera heard a low growl and looked at the soft-spoken girl in shock. That sound was coming from her? "This isn't a game of guess-the-connection. This is the prevention of a war. A war between you and _the conspiracy_!"

"The Cadre would never reveal themselves for something so mundane as a war. They plan too well-"

"Has it occurred to you that they've _been_ planning? We're the only ones strong enough to break their puppet strings - do you imagine they're unthreatened by that? I'll tell you everything - I'll even let the Martian into my head if I have to - but I won't let this war start again, Daddy! There is far too much to lose!"

There were a few moments of silence. Then Question said, "Daddy!?"

Gen put her hands over where her mouth would be. "I didn't mean to say that part," she said guiltily. "Don't be mad. I didn't change things. Mamma doesn't know yet."

"I- Daddy!?"

"Did your father send you back?" Shayera asked, waving her hand in front of Question's face.

"No," said Gen. "He died months ago. I was the only Roach we could afford to send."

"Roach?"

"Some politician called us Roaches on TV. It stuck."

"I see," Shayera said.

"I don't know how to deliver a baby," Question said, sounding faint.

"Oh, is that all you were worried about," Gen said, suddenly relieved. "You've got nine months to figure it out, and anyway Dr. Thomas is qualified. I thought you were upset about me existing."

"Why would I be upset about that?"

"Oh, I don't know. I was hardly planned."

"Planned pregnancy is-"

"Enough!" said Shayera. "Gen, you claim you're here to stop a war. How can we trust your information?"

"I saved Bruce Wayne's life."

"Lex Luthor saved many lives, if his plans demanded it."

"I thought you trusted her, Question."

"It never hurts to check."

"If you consider it necessary," Gen said, "I can let a psychic into my mind. Only, please decide quickly. My information is time sensitive."

"It seems that you were correct, Question," said J'onn, walking into the room. "My help is needed here." His eyes glowed red... and then he gasped. "Shayera, transport to Metropolis at once. Steel," he said, touching his earpiece. "Get to the Daily Planet building. Superman is going to be killed!"

----

"I am uneasy. I do not like being unaware of their movements."

"Relax. They are never long outside of our purview. And what can they do from their tower, anyway?"

"Plan."

"You can't be serious. The only ones who could plan anything of even limited effectiveness are too distrustful to do anything about it."

"I am still uneasy. Something about this business disturbs me. Not the genocide, of course, but... I feel as though we are going about this the wrong way."

"Do we not have your compliance?"

"You do have my compliance, as always. But I cannot shake this unease."

"Rest assured, brother, you needn't feel uneasy for long. It will all be over soon."


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing.

----

Bobby pulled over to the side of the road about fifteen minutes' walk outside of the Metropolis city limits. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to stop the Olsen kid from killing Superman?

It hadn't been that hard to guess Superman's other identity. He didn't try that hard to disguise himself, really. A pair of glasses? Really? But it seemed to work, for someone who had never really paid attention to the Question.

Bobby had, when he was younger and the man with no face was new on the scene. At first, he'd seemed to have supernatural methods for knowing the things he knew. Eventually, he'd met the Question face to non-face, and asked him how he did it. "I ask the right questions," he'd said. "And I remember the answers."

So Bobby tried it.

It took a while to get the hang of asking the right questions to the right people. He still didn't know how to remember all the answers if he didn't write them down, and he sometimes missed connections, even if he had every scrap of information available - he'd always been more of a fighter than a thinker. But he knew enough. He knew enough to beat down the gangs who'd wanted to take over when Superman had been dead. He knew enough to distrust Luthor whenever he... did anything. He knew enough to stay out of the news so that he wouldn't get a supervillain attached to him. He knew enough to cut the aglets off of any shoelaces that came into his possession.

He didn't know enough about how to stop a superhero's best friend from killing said superhero. Did the kid _want _to kill him? Was he under somebody else's control? Had he gone crazy?

It all seemed too much all of a sudden. If he succeeded, he'd be in the papers, and everything he'd done to secure his anonymity since he'd left the military after Vietnam would be for nothing. If he failed, it would be worse. If he failed, it would be war. He took out Gen's letter again. 'Dear Bobby,' she had written.

'Well, it looks like I got caught. If Bruce Wayne died, I got caught by the wrong people, but nobody will know for a day or two. There's still a chance to stop the war from happening, though, or a chance for it to start. I bought a car - don't ask how. Drive to Metropolis and stop Jimmy Olsen from stabbing Clark Kent with a Kryptonite knife tomorrow morning. They both work for the Daily Planet. I'll try to meet you there if the good guys have me. If not,' she wrote, but crossed it out. 'I lied about not knowing why I trusted you. You helped lead the street-people's resistance. Hopefully, you won't need to again.'

How was he supposed to lead street people in a resistance? A resistance against who? And how could street people help anything? Most of them were junkies of one kind or another, and the rest were runaways, or crazy. Certainly no army.

He could not afford to fail. He turned on the car and headed into the city while the sun rose above the horizon, painting the sky red.

----

J'onn sat with his head in his hands, barely noticing the others in the room. "It can't be."

"It can," said Gen. "And for me it was."

"What did you see?" said John, concerned, looking between Gen and J'onn.

"Death," J'onn said, utterly shell-shocked. "In her future, everyone was dead."

"Not everyone," Gen assured him, and herself. "They never targeted ordinary citizens - just us. And they didn't kill all of us - just most." She pointed around the room at the various heroes. Green Lantern. "Under Tala's control, Shayera Hol smashed your ring, and then your skull. She was then torn apart by an enraged mob, feather by feather." Flash. "Another mob cut your legs off and left you to die. Oddly enough it was Captain Boomerang who found you and brought you to us. You survived, but you were on suicide watch in Atlantis." Wonder Woman. "They killed you when you refused to return to Themyscira, and then they dragged your body behind a car - called it poetic on the news." Question. "You died of cancer, in prison. You had Zatanna erase all pertinent information from your mind before you turned yourself in. The courts ruled that you could spend your last days with Mamma. I don't think she outlived you by much." Martian Manhunter. "You hid for a decade before they killed you. You saw how."

"Fire," he whispered, almost without meaning to.

Gen looked at the two empty chairs where Superman and Batman had sat - would sit again. "The list goes on and on, but I can't - I won't let it happen again. I won't."

----

"Morning, Lois," Clark Kent said, putting a cup of coffee down beside her. "You're in early."

"Yeah," she said. "But for nothing. Jimmy was supposed to meet me to take a few photos for an article of mine, but he never showed."

"That's not like him," Clark said. "He's usually so dependable."

"I asked him to show up at five."

"That explains it, then."

"Very funny, Smallville." Lois smiled anyway. "So what's your excuse for the early start?"

"Just being a bit of a farm boy, I guess," he said. "You know, the sun's up, so I should be, too."

"I never understood you Kansas folk," Lois said.

"Hey," Clark said, noticing someone at the entrance to the stairwell. "Is he supposed to be here?"

Lois narrowed her eyes. "I don't think so. Hey," she called out. "Soup kitchen's down the street!"

"I know," the man said. He didn't move.

"I don't think you understand," Clark said, walking over to him. "You can't be here."

"I have to be."

The elevator dinged and a young man with red hair stepped out. "Jimmy," Lois said. "Help Clark get this guy out of here. Then you've got some explaining to do."

Jimmy looked up. His eyes were pure white.

"Thank God," Bobby said, before tackling him.

----

"Are we all intending to stay and watch this?"

"Are you joking, brother? We wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Well, I find no pleasure in it. The alien is the last of his race now that his cousin has disappeared - I still think we should obtain the corpse for study."

"We can find some DNA if you want to clone it."

"Perhaps."

"I don't like this. I still feel as though something is going to go very wrong."


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing.

----

Jimmy threw Bobby off himself. He grinned as he drew out a barbed dagger made entirely, hilt-to-tip, out of kryptonite. "Time to die, Superman," he said. His voice was curiously overlaid with another, as if a European woman was speaking at the same time. Being so close to so much kryptonite, Clark couldn't hear him.

Jimmy raised the dagger, but before he could strike, Bobby pulled him roughly to the ground, knocking it out of his hand. "I've got it," he told Lois and Clark. "I was worried, before, when I heard the kid was going to kill you. I thought he'd gone nuts."

"Oh, really?" said Jimmy. "And what changed your mind?"

"The eyes are kind of a giveaway, Tala."

Jimmy pouted. "It seems you've found me out," Tala made him say. "I'm still stronger, though." Bobby flew a good six feet before hitting the wall.

Jimmy stood up, picking up the evil-looking knife. "You've made me angry, old man. When I've killed him, I think I'll take my time with you." A potted plant hit him in the back. "Do you want to join him, Miss Lane?"

"I didn't throw that," Lois said.

"Excellent," said Bobby. "Backup."

Jimmy looked over his shoulder. Hawkgirl and Steel were just inside the window. "Oh, sh-"

Hawkgirl hit him in the stomach with her mace.

----

"What's going on now?" said Gen.

"It sounds like Hawkgirl just got him with her mace."

"What!?" Gen pulled the communicator out of Question's ear. "Don't kill him!"

"Gen?" said Hawkgirl. "How did you get a communicator?"

"Never mind that, just don't kill Jimmy Olsen! It's not a doppelganger, it's really him!"

"Tell Gen we already know that," Bobby shouted in the background.

"Tell Bobby I can hear him!" Gen said.

"I have an idea," Steel said. "Let's stop telling each other stuff and take care of the possessed teenager!"

"And somebody get the kryptonite away from the Kryptonian!"

----

Steel lunged for the knife, but Tala-Jimmy grabbed him by the back of his neck and bashed his head against the floor. "You pathetic fools. You cannot stop me without killing the boy. The only one who could do it is Superman, and he is, how you say... out of the picture."

"How would that work?" Tala-Jimmy looked at Bobby in surprise. "I mean, he can hit harder than us, sure but that would just be more likely to kill him, wouldn't it? No, there's got to be something else. What's the trigger, Tala?"

Tala-Jimmy smirked. "Well, well, you are smart, aren't you? I've always had a weakness for intelligent men. Alright, I will give you a hint - the key is blood."

Bobby frowned. "Okay then," he said, and ran directly at Superman.

"What are you doing?" Tala-Jimmy said, trying to push past Shayera and the struggling Steel, trying to stop Bobby. "No!"

Bobby pulled an ordinary looking pocket knife from one of his overcoat's many pockets. "Sorry about this," he said, cutting the Kryptonian's hand. Bobby got some of the blood on his own hand, raced across the room, and slapped Jimmy on the face.

Jimmy collapsed, and then just as suddenly opened his eyes. He was himself again, and quite visibly shaken. "I didn't mean to," he said, half to himself. "I couldn't stop her."

"Shayera to Watchtower," Shayera said, taking in the scene around her. Superman was still recovering from kryptonite exposure, even though the man called Bobby had taken it farther away. Bobby was limping and holding his arm as though an old injury had been aggravated. Steel was on the ground next to Jimmy, who had gotten some of Superman's blood on his hands and was looking at it in shock. Shayera herself could feel a limp starting to form. Only Lois seemed unhurt, at least physically. "Six for pickup."

----

Gen sighed and took the earpiece out of her ear. "I did it," she said. "I stopped the war."

"Not necessarily," the Question said. "If they are still set upon this course of action, they will find a way to begin it."

"Then we need to set safeguards in place. Laws, programs, networks - we need a counter-conspiracy."

"And I suppose you have some conspirators in mind?"

"Possibly, but Superman probably won't like it."

"Hm," said the Question. He then remembered that there were others in the room.

"Should we be concerned about this?" Green Lantern asked them.

"I doubt it," said Gen. "Chances are that all our counter-conspiracy will be able to do is damage control for the next few generations. For them to be truly insidious, conspiracies take time."

"I taught you well," Question said.

"Uh huh," said Green Lantern, slowly.

"Well, now that that's taken care of," Flash said. "Who's hungry? Nacho Cheese in the cafeteria today."

After assorted groans and gagging noises, and a little more conversation, they all headed off, Flash in the direction of the Cafeteria, everyone else in the direction of anywhere else. Gen followed Question, silently.

"Gen," Question said eventually. "Short for... Genovese?"

"Close," Gen said. "Genevieve."

"Genevieve," Question said, testing, tasting the word. "Was I..." said Question. "Was I a good father?"

Gen nodded and smiled, tentatively. "We figured out how to subvert the aglets when I was eight."

A matching smile grew on Question's face. "That's my girl."

----

"This was not according to plan."

"No, certainly not. Might we have an unnoticed information leak?"

"I don't see how."

"Perhaps your Metropolis anomaly _was _worth paying attention to."

"Perhaps. What came through?"

"Let me check... oh, dear. It was a young woman with no face."

"Oh, dear."


	6. Chapter 6

I own nothing.

----

Clark Kent woke up in the Watchtower infirmary. How had he gotten there? He remembered going to work that morning... there had been a homeless guy... and then Jimmy...

"Jimmy!" he shouted, sitting up far too quickly. He put his head in his hands.

"Easy, Smallville," said a woman's voice to his left. "Jimmy's fine. We were more worried about you for a while - there was a lot of kryptonite in that knife."

He was confused. If he was in the Watchtower, what was Lois doing there? And if he was dressed as Clark Kent, why was she talking about kryptonite?

Almost as though she were reading his mind, Lois rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Smallville, you think I hadn't figured out you're Superman? Your disguise stinks - and I work with you every day! Sure, I was waiting to see what kind of cheesy romantic way you were planning on telling me, but I'm not stupid." More quietly, she added, "Besides, even if I hadn't known, you almost dying today would have tipped me off."

"There was that much kryptonite?"

"Okay, one: kryptonite _knife_, Smallville. It was a weapon specifically made to kill you - and anyway you ended up here after just being near it, so, yeah, there was that much kryptonite. And two: the only reason you're still alive is because of a girl from the future - a future in which you were dead from this attack."

"I don't brag," said the girl from the doorway. "But I think I did good today. It's exceptional to see that you're well, sir," she told him in all seriousness.

"Uh..."

Lois shrugged. "Apparently, they talk differently in the future."

"What did I say wrong?"

"Never mind, Gen," Lois said. "Clark, this is Gen - the girl you owe your life to."

"Not at all," Gen said. "If anything, it's payback for the debt I already owed him. I mean, yeah, he died before I was born, but if he hadn't saved my dad's life a couple years ago, I wouldn't even exist."

"Who's your dad?" Lois said.

"That would be the Question," she said. "Jimmy Olsen would like to see you, if it's okay. Fate already checked him to make sure there were no hidden triggers. J'onn said he can erase his memory of what happened today if you'd rather, but I think it'd be better to talk to him, personally."

"Of course," said Clark.

"Good, because he's right here," she said. "He's trying to pretend he isn't listening in on this conversation, but he really is. Oh, don't run away," she said, grabbing Jimmy's arm and pulling him into view.

Jimmy just looked awkwardly at the floor. "I'm sorry," he muttered eventually.

"Don't be," Clark said. "It wasn't your fault."

As they got over their awkwardness and started to talk things over in earnest, Gen quietly slipped away. Bobby Black-and-Blue took her place outside the door; he'd told Gen he would, since she was going to meet her mom for the first time since she was four. He wanted to tell Superman about the sharpening spells cast on the Swiss Army knives at the manufacturing plants that made them effective against him, anyway.

----

Booster Gold was familiar with all of the women on the Watchtower - intimately familiar, in fact, although not in the way he'd like. Each and every one of them had turned him down - he was intimately familiar with the view from behind, as they walked away. So when he saw the girl in the trench coat talking to the Question, he knew there was somebody new. Somebody who hadn't turned him down yet.

Which meant that he had a chance with her.

He started walking over to her, only to be stopped by the Flash. "Whoa, there, Booster," he said. "Bad idea, let me tell you."

"Why?" Booster said. "Does she not like boys or something?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Flash said, still resolutely steering Booster away from the new girl. "But coming up behind her? Bad idea. She tends to attack first and figure out what's going on later. Last time somebody snuck up on her, she threw him into a wall."

"Was it you?"

"No, it wasn't me! Why does everybody think it was me?"

Booster shrugged. "So what else do you know about her?" He snuck another glance back at her, just as she turned around. She had no face, but then, he'd kind of gotten used to Question, and anyway, he remembered that one time in the future, when his ex-girlfriend had made him go to this fashion show, and none of the models had faces, and she said it was a poetic thing. He actually thought she was really hot, even with the no-face thing. "Where she's from, what's her name, all that stuff."

"Her name's Gen," Flash said. "I don't think it's a codename. She's from the future, but not as far in the future as you, and anyway, her future was really a bad scene, so she came back to keep it from happening. Question trained her. And beyond that, I don't know," he said. He knew, of course, who her parents were, but she'd asked them not to tell everyone. He supposed it had something to do with the conspiracy theory. Or, were they supposed to call it a theory anymore, now that they knew it was real?

"She's a time traveller? Like me?"

"Not really like you, Boost."

"Yeah, well, I'm one of a kind."

----

Gen had seen the blond man with the star on his chest looking at her, and he hadn't flinched away like most of the others. It was... confusing. "Who was he?" she asked out loud.

"Who was who?"

"The one with the gold visor."

"His codename is Booster Gold. His real name is Ted Kord, although it was difficult to discover, because his robot, Skeets, laid a very effective false paper trail. Like you, he hasn't been born yet."

"Hm," Gen said. "Interesting. There was no record of this Booster Gold in my time, although he could simply have naturalized." She watched him walk away with Flash.

"Uh oh," said Question.

"What's wrong?"

"I recognize that look," Question said. "It'll be hard enough explaining you to your mother. How do you expect me to let her know there's a possibility to have Booster Gold for a son-in-law?"

----

"Any progress?"

"None. She is untraceable by magical or mundane means. We can't even get our hands on DNA to test if our theory of her parentage is correct."

"That wouldn't be an issue if you had followed the correct procedures and had your liaisons tailed."

"Explain to me exactly how I was to know-"

"Enough! These petty arguments will get us nowhere. Do we have no leads at all?"

"Maybe... I think they may have just given themselves up. Our agent watching Helena Bertinelli, AKA Huntress, just watched her answer an untraceable call and then go into one of those infuriating blackout zones."

"How does that help us?"

"It's the blackout zone we tagged as a probable base of operations for the Question. And... before she went in... she bought a pregnancy test."


End file.
